The air crackled with residual energy, a tangible hum vibrating through the shattered stones of the temple. Destiny, in its
monstrous form, had been a whirlwind of chaotic power, a
maelstrom of destructive force that had threatened to obliterate them all. But then, a shift. A subtle, almost imperceptible change in the rhythm of the battle. It began with a flicker, a hesitation in Destiny's relentless assault. A moment of vulnerability, as fleeting as a dying star.
Lyra, her body aching, her spirit frayed, noticed it first. A tremor, not of the earth, but of the very essence of Destiny itself. It was as if the entity, for a brief, precious instant, faltered, its power wavering, its resolve cracking. The monstrous form, previously a whirlwind of uncontrolled energy, seemed to momentarily
